


Raining Diamonds

by InediblePeriwinkle



Series: How A(n ex) Thief [3]
Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, request, soft fluffy piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26742556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InediblePeriwinkle/pseuds/InediblePeriwinkle
Summary: There's something so sturdy about Charles, Henry thinks, on his way to drop off Toppat intel and take him out to dinner. For all his inner turmoil, it's one thing he can really hang on to.
Relationships: Charles Calvin/Henry Stickmin
Series: How A(n ex) Thief [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936354
Comments: 10
Kudos: 170





	Raining Diamonds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mediapuppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediapuppy/gifts).



Henry checked his watch, shining gold light into his own face. 

He squinted rather than take his phone out like a normal human being. He was over an hour early, but honestly? He was tired of hanging around the Toppat base and his nervous energy was making Ellie ‘antsy’. 

He wasn’t nervous, it was just a date and it was just Charles, that was ridiculous. Henry’s…Henry’s been on a date before, _Ellie_ , he wasn’t nervous. 

He’d stood around about all of another four minutes before he decided he was truly getting on her nerves and needed to go. With a meek apology (for Ellie’s ears only,) he skittered from the room with a little more of his confidence falling behind. 

So he stood outdoors, on the walkway between apartments, checking his watch and nearly burning out his retinas. 

He could wait for the pilot in his own apartment. That was kind of expected, though, at this point, he ought to do something different. Something to keep the other on his toes, remind him that he was a dastardly thief with a weakness for treating locks like a challenge and he could do what he liked. He just behaved himself out of love and respect. 

Nothing like being an ass to tell your significant other how crazy you were about them. 

Decided, Henry skipped every second step, strolling casually along the parking lot of the complex towards the gym. 

Thank Ellie for telling him Charles had been running off his own manic energy. He’d just pop in, try to give him a scare, be an ass and wait around his apartment until he was ready. 

Which might be obnoxious. Henry slowed, heart starting to sink. That was annoying, right? 

Oh, shit. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing. He’d sooner throw himself out of an airship than admit it, but lasting, emotional relationships were not something he was…prone to. He usually bailed way before it became any kind of meaningful. Best do it first, right? 

A thief couldn’t trust anyone. He didn’t do anything as ‘silly’ as a date like this. Which felt entirely stupid because he was nearly 30 fucking years old, infamous, and had also known the guy for two years. It was childish.

He just needed to talk to him. Henry’s meandering pace was thoughtful, sun filtering through colored leaves. Charles had a way of putting people at ease. 

In the early stages of their friendship, those days before Triple Threat and even maybe The Wall, he’d wondered what it was about the guy that made him so trustworthy. 

Part of it, he’d decided, was his voice. Littered with tics, little human noises as he flew a piece of war machinery and debriefed you at the same time. He had sounded like a person. His voice was laid back to the point of almost being lazy, warming in certain situations into something that felt so _genuine_ that even someone who couldn’t trust could believe in it. 

That and his willingness to help. No matter what harebrained scheme Henry came up with, Charles just said ‘yeah sure, that sounds like a lot of fun’ and came through.

Henry touched his carefully-styled hair, smiling to himself. 

Charles had never let him down. He’d told him that and he stood by it. Yes, Charles was impulsive, a little scatterbrained, but it wasn’t because he was stupid. Henry knew very well that Charles was clever and wasn’t sure why so many people seemed surprised when he said that. 

In all honesty, truths out on the table, Charles was the leader of their group. Officially. Triple Threat was the taskforce Galeforce assigned Charles. He just preferred to let Henry lead once they got out on the field. He was a quick-thinking, high-ranked officer specifically put in charge of helping take down one of the most dangerous criminal organizations on earth. 

He never fully appreciated that until he’d been initiated into the Home Division. To hear that they inadvertently _knew him_ , knew his division under the General. That had been a little humbling, honestly, even if none of them knew what he looked like or what his name was. Didn't realize it was the guy Henry had the hots for, though everyone knew that the man he talked to at the manor was not exactly a platonic pal. The Toppats knew an ace pilot was among the ranks and he was brought in for special missions.

He'd make sure to give Charles every single piece of information on _that_ he could find, was going to hand it off later today. Flick the envelope out with a flirty wink and a 'all my bosses are scared shitless you're going to show up and that's the sexiest fucking thing on the planet', to disguise the fact he was terrified they'd lay a good trap for someone that chased them by air. They were smart enough to do it. So he was going to have to sabotage them from inside.

Under RHM, while Copperbottom was still in recovery, he was part of a group that got away with some insane shit that wouldn't fly anywhere else on earth. Toppats looked out for their own (until they decided you weren’t their own anymore, that is) and everyone else could just go to hell. They planned with the best criminal minds on the planet, used the resources of hundreds of people in commonfolk authority, executed with the best of thieves and grifters. Henry knew, because Henry had his own team of the latter. 

That specific detail he wasn’t sure he was going to tell Charles about. 

Oh, he was going to keep giving him information, he was told all kinds of great stuff that could help Charles and Ellie out, rekindle favor with the government so Henry could finally return. But he didn’t know if he wanted to tell him _everything_. Open that can of worms. 

He almost did once, but he wasn’t sure that appropriate pillow talk was about your boyfriend’s experience as head of a division you were actively trying to take down. There was something that worried him about that. 

While he still wore a nice button up, blazer, and slacks, he was hatless for that reason. Charles tended to look at it like it was a loose wild animal, lined in real gold and utterly innocuous. 

He hadn’t said anything, of course, but Henry noticed. 

He wondered what Charles really thought about it. He knew, he could see it on him, the way his brows pinched when he first stopped by the last couple times to give him information. Yes, it immediately melted into something warm and sweet but it was that split second, that single split second, that had Henry fucked up. 

He’d reassure him, but Henry was afraid of the questions he might ask. 

Right now, he was in charge of however many operations he wanted to take on. He rocketed up the ranks, considered especially valuable since Copperbottom might be permanently incapable of leading. They needed someone devious and strong and he was looked up to. His stunts at The Wall had really endeared him to them and honestly it was kind of exciting. 

It was seductive, to a thief. However many riches and excitement he wanted. Infamy. Respect. _Authority_. Whatever he wanted and whenever he wanted to go get it. He was living like a Prince, reaping all sorts of benefits, and if Charles ever asked him if he was having fun he’d have to say…Yes. And he was scared what the other might think of him for it.

Okay, he was losing his nerve. 

Henry hesitated in front of the building, head resting against the glass door. Ellie was right. He was nervous. 

Henry frowned, looking up. The glass was vibrating. He placed his palm against it, fingers spread, and slowly pushed the door open. 

A starchy kind of voice, too-chipper and loud. A radio, it was a commercial, fading back into music. He wasn’t sure how the hell it got cranked up so high, it was going to shatter the goddamn glass.

Henry couldn’t keep the grin off his face and slipped in noiselessly. 

“-all the things I’ve seen-”

The tension all but melted off of him. He was the type to sing at any given moment, always making up lyrics to fit his task when he was distracted and trying to focus. Henry had spent countless hours watching lounging on nearby wings of aircrafts and listening to Charles sing between conversations. It was comforting at this point.

“-And I can’t kiss you outside my lucid dreams-”

His back was to Henry but he was still careful to stay out of sight. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt right now.

Charles was dancing, a swaying, slow-turn, wrist flinging beat, singing directly at himself in the mirror. 

“No I can't go back…’til I know what you are.”

He spun on both feet, gym shoes squeaking horrendously over the music. He pointed, feet braced out and finger guns at the mirror like he was in a wild west shootout. 

“So I’m holding us, holdin in too much, the one who cries when the love’s too much-”

Henry watched his hips twist, sway with the electronic beat, feet keeping step in graceful but random patterns. Something utterly ethereal. 

He was not remotely breathless, being as fit at he was, belting out lyrics like he was on a soundproof stage. Henry gave him an approving look, up and down, taking note of the loose shorts and shirt with his last name on the back that had probably fit when he was a younger kid. 

It stretched over his shoulders, riding up well above his hip bones. Tantalizing.

Henry was biting his lip, trying not to sigh dreamily and laugh his ass off at the same time. 

You want to talk seductive? 

Henry had held more riches than most people have seen in a lifetime. He’d stolen more riches than most people have seen in a lifetime. Nothing he'd whisked from rich pockets was anywhere near as appealing, alluring, desirable than this blank-faced, oblivious, special ops pilot with a penchant for befriending less than savory types. Something beguiling for being so damn honest

“-From what surface is in side my own dreams-”

He was lucky. He knew that. Earning the love of someone like Charles was not something Henry wanted to take lightly, anymore. 

He stepped into the room, visible in the mirror, but someone was a little too lost in himself to notice. 

Henry savored it, every single happy feeling wafting off the other. Charles stretched his arms above his head, and Henry ghosted his fingers over the sliver of skin between shorts and his shirt. 

He stepped back quickly, letting Charles see who it was, register the surprise, the delight, and stepped back in, trailing more daring fingers over his hips. 

Charles’ smile never wavered and he rested his forearms against Henry’s shoulders. Henry's heart melted.

“No I can’t go back, until I know what you are-”

Henry knew how to dance- maybe well was an overstatement- but this swaying, twisting thing Charles had invented? He could follow that. He could follow him. 

He touched him as much as he could. Charles would spin out of reach, he would twirl back into his circle. Slide a hand over his arm, a thumb over his wrist, down his chest to his waist. 

The other was singing through soft huffs of laughter, tone turning warm and directed. Singing more to Henry than anything else. 

“-Found my way to you-”

He couldn’t hear the words anymore. He was enchanted. 

That was what Charles did. Henry gravitated him like a cold planet around the fire of a sun, blinding and deadly in exactly how potent it could really be. Taken for granted, radiant, a secret powerhouse, and how crucial. For him, for everyone. 

“You’re beautiful,” Henry told him, and Charles sucked in air. 

“Oh,” He said, starry-eyed. 

Henry’s arms were around his waist, a loose thing, meant to be broken if it was wanted. 

“I mean it,” He said. It was important that Charles know, somehow. “I’m-”

Lucky to have you. Enjoying being part of a strangely functional family. Glad I met you, to even _know_ you, much less call you my partner. 

“Happy,” Henry told him, holding his gaze with intense authority. “Here. Because of you.” 

The music was a siren call in the night, something high and distant as the beat slowed, as they slowed with it. 

“Same here,” Charles said, reaching for Henry’s forearm and gently tugging him closer. “I mean it.” 

Joy swirled in his chest, and Henry was pressed against him. The pilot's hands wandered over his skin, tracing tailored lines with reverence. 

Years accumulated into this. A strong but single stitch of trust, into something so wide and strong that it was intimidating to someone like him. Intimidating, intoxicating, and maybe inevitable. 

It might not sound like a big deal to anyone else, but there wasn’t ever a time where Henry disliked Charles. He really should have thought about the implication of that earlier. His bond with Charles had been strong from the get-go and he’d started this immediately after the airship. It had always sat between them, powerful, but unspoken until recent.

Strengthening into an allure of it's own, but better than infamy and jewels and power. Something lovingly given, trusted, with no demands of return.

That, Henry gave as well, and was glad every day that he got to do so.

“You're gorgeous,” Henry told him, breath ghosting his lips. “And I've always been a little bit in love with you.” 

The pilot looked transfixed, intense. Focused. Like he was trying to read Henry's mind.

He pressed their foreheads together, hands gently stroking down Henry's sides. He was smiling, eyes closed, fingers curling into his shirt. 

Henry had always been good at communicating nonverbally. Charles had always had a knack for comprehending his language.

Seems only fair it would work the other way around.

The music turned to something lively but the pilot stayed in Henry's arms.


End file.
